Poem 1

Sanctity is often seen as a sign of purity,

Yet the sanctums rarely hold true.

Wishes are the lifeblood,

But lifeblood is not needed to live.

Do you trust the creatures around and under

That they will always have your interest at heart?

Can you understand the danger of corruption, 

The wishes your own made that tore them apart?

Cracked glass, ripped papers

A life not worth living, but no choice for an immortal

Cruel wishing, the birth of the suffering

Murder, death, despair and pain

These are the words that have created their bane.